


White Walls

by GalaxyGhosty



Series: Daydreams [2]
Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicide Attempt (Off-screen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6122495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. His heart beats. That bothers him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Walls

**Author's Note:**

> I had a daydream.

The walls are so white.

Jack doesn't know what to really think about the place. He supposes there isn't much to say about it. He's all alone in the little white room, and he thinks maybe he should be grateful for that—but he also feels inexplicably lonely. 

He shifts. The bed creaks. Jack thinks maybe he should go back to sleep, because everything seems a lot better when he's asleep, but at the same time, he hates it so much that he really doesn't want to bother. So he keeps his tired eyes open and stares at the ceiling, which, contradictory to the walls, is a pale shade of blue. 

His heart beats. That bothers him.

Squeak. The door opens. He doesn't turn his head, because he knows it's the nurse lady—the older woman who talks to him very, very softly, as if she's afraid he'll lash out at her, or start crying. Neither of which will likely happen. Jack doesn't feel much of anything right now. 

“Sean,” the nurse says, very gently. “There's someone here to see you. Would you like to talk to them? It's alright to say no.” 

This catches his interest. No one has really come to see him since...the whole thing went down. It's just been parents, and other odd family members—but never a someone. He nods slowly, before rethinking the decision, as he murmurs, “Yeah. That's...that's fine.” 

The nurse leaves. And then another person enters. Jack's blue eyes slowly shift to the person in the doorway, tentative and awkward and almost afraid. 

His throat feels dry. His heartbeat picks up and that bothers him more. 

The walls are suddenly blinding him. 

He closes his eyes.

“Hey,” he manages, with his eyes still shut. “How ya doing?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mark says, so quiet, so hushed, so fearful. Like the nurse. It makes him angry. But then it dissipates. He can't stay mad long. “Things okay in here?”

Jack offers a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah. Fed three times a day, given clean sheets and showers and all that shit. Kind of like prison except everyone looks at you like you're gonna crumble at any given moment, instead of like you've done something really bad.” 

“That's good,” Mark offers, and then there's silence. 

The silence of the awkward brand. There isn't much to say. Jack opens his eyes and looks at him head on, and it's the most eye contact he's made with anyone in a while. 

“Why are you here?” 

He figures there's no need to beat around the bush. Honestly, it's not going to do them any good anyway. Mark sighs and pulls up one of the chairs from the corner, sitting next to his bed. Jack suddenly feels like he's dying and Mark is confessing some dark secret to him.

Except, Jack is not dying. The doctors had made sure of that. 

“Because I care about you,” Mark says, and Jack knows that he means it. Perhaps that's why it bothers him so much. “And I want you to be okay.”

“Tough shit,” Jack replies. “I'm not. Probably not for a while. Maybe not ever.” 

“I don't think that's true,” Mark mumbles, shaking his head. “Jack—”

But then he stops. He doesn't finish. Jack grinds his teeth, knowing what the question is before it even comes out. So he spits, “It's not even about me wanting to die. It's about wanting everything to just stop. For the world to stop kicking me in the fucking stomach, knocking the goddamn wind out of me every chance it gets. It's about wanting everything to stop hurting, for me to stop feeling like I'm suffocating from my constant, overbearing loneliness and for things to make some fucking sense.” 

Jack licks his lips. He looks away. Mark's breathing gets a little funny. 

Silence. Silence. It's like a dial tone. Static. Nothing important.

“I'm sorry,” Mark whispers. “I'm sorry.”

Jack doesn't answer him. Mark continues. “I'm sorry. I just—Jack, when I heard, when I heard I—I was so scared. I was so scared that I'd lost you. And you mean so much to me. You're one of the most important people in my life and the thought of you being gone I just—I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so selfish but I'm so glad they saved you, because there's a world without you in it, and I don't want to be in that world.”

His voice gets funny. Jack looks at him and Mark is tearing up, combing his fingers through his hair. “I know you're not okay. And that's okay. You don't have to be. But I'm gonna be here until you are, or I'm gonna spend the rest of my life trying to make you be. Okay?”

It's not like he can just turn that down. Jack closes his eyes, and the familiar burn in his throat and the sting in his eyes let him know that he's tearing up too. Instead of answering, he simply nods, curling his fingers into a fist at his side.

Slowly, Mark's hand rests on top of his, and Jack doesn't move.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Hit me up at galaxyghosty.tumblr.com.


End file.
